Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Sometimes When I Forget: Poem
SOMETIMES WHEN I FORGET
Sometimes when I forget
Where I am, where I will be tomorrow
Blessed memory can take me on it's wings far, far away.
When the pain gets too much
Pass my finger across the strings
The wooden body hums, the wooden body needs that much.
The flesh is weak but the mind,
Permits some delusions
The time for illusions has gone.
Sometimes when I forget
Where I am, where I began
Where I am and what I've become:
Insomuch
Where I can be in the long years to come.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
delusions
,
flesh is weak
,
long years
,
mind permits
,
sometimes
,
strings
,
When I forget
,
wings
,
wooden body
Monday, December 27, 2010
Cry Now, Relentless Fire: Poem
Cry Now, Relentless Fire
Ease the pain, now, coursing,
Furious, raging fire
Someone whom, just by silent touch
Can say so much
There were rivers of embers
Coursing in my veins; cry now,
Divine, relentless fire
Sleep will come with the dawn
Immemorable fire, but no, not desire
For this life or another
No pangs for immortality
Ease the pain, while the planets spin
The world, upside down, slanting
Speaks to me through
Slivers, shivers, rivers
Of corporal fire; my brain
Has no more space in which to think
I am this moment, sage and mage
I am the fire, the image
And then comes the pain, again
Coursing in my veins; cry now,
Divine, relentless fire
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
dawns
,
ease the pain
,
image
,
immortality
,
pain
,
pangs
,
planets
,
rivers of embers
,
sage
,
sleeping cat
,
veins
,
world
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Spires That Touch The Sky: Poem
SPIRES THAT TOUCH THE SKY
Spires that touch the sky; the city and I.
Cities that dream near water's shore.
Watching people as they run for more.
The utter solitude of a single mind
As it struggles to grasp and rewind
To make sense of reason and season.
Ah! but in the stone of the spires
Lie more than codes and electric wires.
Once I thought I could see
Glimmers of a kind of insanity.
Meaning and seeming transformed by dreaming.
The spires replied to me:
But that is another kind of identity.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
codes
,
electric wires
,
glimmers
,
identity
,
kind of insanity
,
reason
,
season
,
single mind
,
sky
,
spires
,
stone
,
utter solitude
,
water's shore
,
wild cities
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Secrets, Murmured When Alone: Poem
SECRETS, MURMURED WHEN ALONE
.
.
When alone, and matters come to mind
Secrets that I alone could understand
Secrets placed somewhere to the left centre
Secrets placed somewhere to the left centre
Of my soul, beating softly, beating like a drum
.
.
Tapping out words I thought I could forget
So I whisper them to the sky
.
.
And thus to the branches of an old tree
That must be wondering why
.
.
Secrets that I alone could understand
Should be murmured to the stone, when alone.
.
.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Monday, November 15, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
One Day A Cloud Will Find Me : Poem
One Day A Cloud Will Find Me
One day a cloud will find me, high,high up in the sky
Warmed by sun's warm flame; or even sweep down
In draping, billowing wonder; all that I will see
Is misty melancholy delight
Yes, misty melancholy delight: to be one with the sky
The moon, the sun. To feel the touch of cosmic fingers
On my silent cheek. To go beyond the limits of
My own cerebral boundaries, to feel and breathe
This misty melancholy delight. The mountain can whisper
And the plains explain. The rivers flow on, and ever on;
My breath mingles with this mystic cloud that, majestic and serene
Smiles down at me, certain of direction, route and course.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
breath mingles
,
cloud
,
mealncholy delight
,
misty
,
moon
,
sunrise
Monday, October 4, 2010
Shadow Of A Tree On A Cracked Wall: Photograph
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Existence, Brief And Flickering: Poem
EXISTENCE, BRIEF AND FLICKERING
Existence, brief and flickering, almost done
Almost similar to many lives, but not quite
Almost done, and then undone; as random
As oceanwaves, that subject to the currents
And to the moon's powerful love;
Yes, to the laws above.
.
Life moves on, second after second
Until the minutes and hours are done.
The years stretch backwards as far away
As the distant, burning sun.
Now there are moments of truth
And many moments of despair; and then
Grace comes, love happens
Whenever, whatever, carpe diem.
Cannot, cannot put back the hands of a clock;
There is no going back to another world.
Transitory footprints, existence, brief and flickering
Angst, euphoria, patience, the written word.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Existence, brief and flickering, almost done
Almost similar to many lives, but not quite
Almost done, and then undone; as random
As oceanwaves, that subject to the currents
And to the moon's powerful love;
Yes, to the laws above.
.
Life moves on, second after second
Until the minutes and hours are done.
The years stretch backwards as far away
As the distant, burning sun.
Now there are moments of truth
And many moments of despair; and then
Grace comes, love happens
Whenever, whatever, carpe diem.
Cannot, cannot put back the hands of a clock;
There is no going back to another world.
Transitory footprints, existence, brief and flickering
Angst, euphoria, patience, the written word.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
carpe diem
,
clock
,
despair
,
existence
,
existential angst
,
lives
,
love happens
,
moments of truth
,
transitory
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Unto The End Of Mortality: Poem
UNTIL THE END OF MORTALITY
I will tread on meandering paths, often weary;
I will stop and gaze at the sun as it rises.
I will watch a tree's leaves rustle in the breeze
Rest my body, so tired, when I please
I will wander in that old city's lanes
Pass crumbling mansions , craftsmen at work;
I will recall youth's joys and troubled sorrows
Even as I write in fragrant ink these lines;
I remember snatches of melody;
I remember the poetry of long ago.
Defenceness, under the end of mortality
I will witness my own nostalgic pain.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
fragrant ink
,
lanes
,
leaves
,
melody
,
mortality
,
nostalgic pain
,
old city
,
poetry
,
sunrise
,
troubled sorrows
,
youth's joys
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Clouds That Come And Go: Poem
Clouds That Come And Go
Clouds that come and go
Untold divine missions do
They carry out, without pause or falter
They our fates can certainly alter.
Clouds that gather up above
Do they ever wonder?
What do scurrying mortals matter?
When the heavens shatter?
Now and then clouds do go
Far above to hot unknown lands
The wonder, the surprise, the unabated joy
When they reply to uplifted hands.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
clouds
,
heavens
,
hot lands
,
mortals
,
scurrying
,
unknown lnds
,
uplifted hands
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Blurred: Poem
BLURRED
Nothing is impossible: everything is possible.
Affirmation and confirmation, conforming to
The positive attitude as signified in books.
But then why is this world blurred, why do drops sting my cheeks?
I saw…I saw a bird plummeting down from the sky
I saw a child with scars, an old man cry
I was every woman who could not because she had nowhere to go;
I was the child, woman and man
That is when this blurred world began.
If Siddharth, the son of a king asked why
Why should I, I, find the reply?
The train that missed the track;
The limbless man, the teenager in limbo
The rage and the desperation in tenement homes
Though home still; the slums and drugs
And the black alleys at night
The jobless, the mobs, those who were deaf to pleas
No more, no more pain please.
Now in my mind I thought I could see
Evidence of misery and insanity
But this blurred world, part of my own personal pain
Is also full of guilt and vanity.
Thus I spin out my emotions in reams of verse
Alone in my own little corner of the universe.
This world seems blurred;
But then, thus so is the world.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Affirmation and confirmation, conforming to
The positive attitude as signified in books.
But then why is this world blurred, why do drops sting my cheeks?
I saw…I saw a bird plummeting down from the sky
I saw a child with scars, an old man cry
I was every woman who could not because she had nowhere to go;
I was the child, woman and man
That is when this blurred world began.
If Siddharth, the son of a king asked why
Why should I, I, find the reply?
The train that missed the track;
The limbless man, the teenager in limbo
The rage and the desperation in tenement homes
Though home still; the slums and drugs
And the black alleys at night
The jobless, the mobs, those who were deaf to pleas
No more, no more pain please.
Now in my mind I thought I could see
Evidence of misery and insanity
But this blurred world, part of my own personal pain
Is also full of guilt and vanity.
Thus I spin out my emotions in reams of verse
Alone in my own little corner of the universe.
This world seems blurred;
But then, thus so is the world.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
black alleys
,
blurred affirmation
,
blurred world
,
child with scars
,
confirmation
,
desperation
,
drugs
,
emotions
,
insanity
,
misery
,
old man cry
,
positive attitude
,
rage
,
Siddharth
,
slums
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Invalides, Paris
This Parisian landmark includes both the Army Museum and Napolean's tomb.
Labels:
Army museum
,
golden dome
,
invalides
,
Napolean's tomb
,
Parisian landmark
Every Woman Everywhere: Poem
Every Woman Everywhere
If only every woman at the well
Could have her pitcher filled; her needs fulfilled
The right to follow her own dream
If only could every woman who cried
Hot tears of guilt, submission or pain
Could be met with compassion
Fears of work in wild cities,
Fears, fears, tears.
Where do you go when you're alone?
Some do destiny follow
Some do lies swallow;
An idea that abandoning roles can
Change destiny since time began.
But do you want to die alone?
Do you want to survive or plead?
What paths do you want to tread?
Why do you urge other women to follow
All the lies you had to swallow?
Village women, city women
Fears, fears, tears.
Some ideas of education and roots
Like a bamboo and it's shoots;
You hear the same discourse.
It is your own idea where your freedom lies.
Freedom from hunger, freedom from strife
Does the city then have any pity?
For one, hunger because the crops have failed
And for the other, wageless, hunger
For the rents have to be paid
Pretty princess or simple maid
Every woman, everywhere.
Copyright: Rani Turton
If only every woman at the well
Could have her pitcher filled; her needs fulfilled
The right to follow her own dream
If only could every woman who cried
Hot tears of guilt, submission or pain
Could be met with compassion
Fears of work in wild cities,
Fears, fears, tears.
Where do you go when you're alone?
Some do destiny follow
Some do lies swallow;
An idea that abandoning roles can
Change destiny since time began.
But do you want to die alone?
Do you want to survive or plead?
What paths do you want to tread?
Why do you urge other women to follow
All the lies you had to swallow?
Village women, city women
Fears, fears, tears.
Some ideas of education and roots
Like a bamboo and it's shoots;
You hear the same discourse.
It is your own idea where your freedom lies.
Freedom from hunger, freedom from strife
Does the city then have any pity?
For one, hunger because the crops have failed
And for the other, wageless, hunger
For the rents have to be paid
Pretty princess or simple maid
Every woman, everywhere.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
Alone
,
city women
,
compassion
,
destiny
,
every woman
,
guilt
,
pathsn lies
,
pitcher
,
submission
,
tears
,
village women
,
wild cities
,
work
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
At Sunset, Today: Poem
At Sunset, Today
At sunset, today when the sky turns red
When clouds, try to veil the sky; when birds nest
And are too tired to fly
When workers, tired, straggle back home
And school has closed for the day
And in houses the curtains are drawn
When lights spring into life
And the spirit, tranquil, reflects
On the events of the day
At sunset, today, when the sky turns red
Father, grant everyone his daily bread.
Copyright: Rani Turton
At sunset, today when the sky turns red
When clouds, try to veil the sky; when birds nest
And are too tired to fly
When workers, tired, straggle back home
And school has closed for the day
And in houses the curtains are drawn
When lights spring into life
And the spirit, tranquil, reflects
On the events of the day
At sunset, today, when the sky turns red
Father, grant everyone his daily bread.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
clouds
,
curtains drawn
,
daily bread
,
events of the day
,
father
,
lights
,
nest
,
school
,
sunset
,
tired birds
Friday, May 7, 2010
I Left My Heart Somewhere: Poem
I Left My Heart Somewhere
I left my heart somwhere.
I searched for it night, and day.
I waited for the Unknown.
Just to take me far, far away.
There were moments of intense solitude.
Where, where did my heart stray?
I left my soul somewhere.
On dusty tracks it did stray.
I looked for it everywhere.
My mind remained blank and bare.
Then my body sad, said softly
I need the others to remain alive.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
alive
,
brittle mind
,
dusty tracks
,
heart
,
intense solitude
,
Unknown
Friday, April 16, 2010
Fragile Hearts: Poem
FRAGILE HEARTS
Fragile hearts, hearts that break
Do not harsh words and ruptures take
Fragile hearts that trust and beat
Trodden under uncaring feet
Hearts, like roses in the rain,
Scatter under the onslaught of pain.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
fragile hearts
,
harsh words
,
hearts that break
,
onslaught of pain
,
roses in the rain
,
ruptures
,
trodden
,
uncaring feet
Friday, March 26, 2010
THERE IS THE SKY, THERE IS THE RIVER
THERE IS THE SKY, THERE IS THE RIVER
There is the sky, there is the river
The taker, and the giver
There is the sand, there are the stones
All that constitutes our bones
There are the stars and the trees
The soul has eyes that sees
The body thus thinks and acts
But then, whose is this mind that reacts?
Copyright: Rani Turton
There is the sand, there are the stones
All that constitutes our bones
There are the stars and the trees
The soul has eyes that sees
The body thus thinks and acts
But then, whose is this mind that reacts?
Copyright: Rani Turton
Friday, February 12, 2010
This Emptiness Within: Poem
THIS EMPTINESS WITHIN
This emptiness within, an utter stillness that could,
Would, should remain transfixed by eternity
Not a sunyatian stillness not the perfect void
A void, no, rather devoid
Not a perfect vacumn not even the space
To fill up a space that
Silences and stillness from analysis
Springs nought; not the naught but the knot
And the stillness and the silence in empty hearts
As far from perfection as existence
As far from existence as perfection
From where perfection springs
From the depth of the naughts
This emptiness within, then as still
As far from perfection's existence
As from perfecting existence
Transcends and permeates the fickle uneasy mind
Leaving mind and thought and emotion far, far behind.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
emptiness
,
existence
,
knots
,
naughts
,
perfect void
,
psychology
,
silences
,
vacumn
,
void
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Anchor: Poem
Anchor
Wherever you may rove, my thoughts, my brimming heart
Tries to keep pace with you: for so it is;
The journey has been so long, so fraught with worry
I am numb and my eyes blurry.
There is a port perhaps where you can at times
Anchor; there is an inn or a home where you may
At times wont to linger: wherever you may go
My heart goes with you, with every tide's flow.
Once I knew you were my lighthouse
My ocean and my endless horizon, I dared
To cross oceans and go hither and dither;
But in anguish oft did my lonely soul wither.
Folk musicians wander and do not wonder;
But how did I become the muse and the mast
When all that I ever wanted, I do concur
Was to become your eternal anchor?
Copyright: Rani Turton
Thursday, January 7, 2010
This Moment Captive: Poem
THIS MOMENT CAPTIVE
I can call you my beloved
Softly under my breath:
Only my own ears will hear;
I can look on you as my very own
Until the hour of my death.
You are here and now, this moment captive
In the cupped warmth of my hands
You can speak to me if you must
I won't run for I'll be a prisoner of your words
Tied to you by soft silken bands.
I will always cherish you; and moreso
I will always remember how sometimes you,
Forgetting yourself, and the entire watching world
Let everybody see, so recklessly, so fecklessly
That your love for me was true.
Copyright: Rani Turton
I can call you my beloved
Softly under my breath:
Only my own ears will hear;
I can look on you as my very own
Until the hour of my death.
You are here and now, this moment captive
In the cupped warmth of my hands
You can speak to me if you must
I won't run for I'll be a prisoner of your words
Tied to you by soft silken bands.
I will always cherish you; and moreso
I will always remember how sometimes you,
Forgetting yourself, and the entire watching world
Let everybody see, so recklessly, so fecklessly
That your love for me was true.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Labels:
breath
,
captive
,
fecklessly
,
forgetting
,
hour of my death
,
moment
,
prisoner of words
,
recklessly
,
silken bands
,
speak
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